


Frigid Nightmares

by Dayntee



Category: Pillars of Eternity
Genre: Angst, Dreams and Nightmares, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-07
Updated: 2018-12-07
Packaged: 2019-09-13 20:33:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16899438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dayntee/pseuds/Dayntee
Summary: Summary: Ydwin’s insistence on investigating the invitation from Rymrgand’s faithful rubs Aloth the wrong way; his consciousness (both his own and a suppressed Iselmyr) pulls him in two directions. Should he follow his captain’s orders or push an agenda that’s more personal than he’s willing to admit?





	Frigid Nightmares

**Author's Note:**

> This whole thing came about as a result of me accidentally wandering into the Beast of Winter DLC and being WHOLLY unprepared for it (IE getting my ass utterly handed to me). After rolling back a fair notch, I’ve continued on, but I also tried to mentally justify the detour, backtrack, and continued exploration of the Deadfire and this... whatever it is, is what resulted.
> 
> Rating: PG-13, for some depicted gruesome violence
> 
> Relationships: Aloth x F!Watcher (unspoken/unresolved, ANGST AHOY)
> 
> Spoilers: Deadfire, Beast of Winter DLC (light)
> 
> Notes: Still finding Idralia’s accent, but it’s Aedyran with a Deadfire dull to it. Writing it out is almost as challenging as speaking it on stream. Imagine it landing somewhere between Aloth’s mid-Atlantic and Serafin’s super casual pirate cadence. And then trying not to make it sound Dyrwoodan.

A curled, familiar piece of tanned leather suddenly appeared before Idralia’s face. As she gently pushed it aside, the stern glare of Ydwin appeared from behind it, decisively reaching up with her spare hand to adjust her glasses on the bridge of her nose.

“Watcher. You’ve had this invitation for weeks. Do you have any intention of investigating its source?”

Idralia reached up and removed her eye patch, rubbing the protected eye for a moment as it re-adjusted back to the dim light below decks. She had no medical need for the patch, but her experience as a sharpshooter on the high seas had long since taught her the value in keeping an eye dim for travelling above and below deck. She preferred, however, to meet her companions with both eyes when discussing matters of import.

“Of course I do. I’d like to think that in the time you’ve been aboard _The Defiant_ , you’ve noticed I‘m a woman of my word,” she took the missive from Ydwin’s insistent grasp, re-reading the contents over again. The thin, jagged writing in red disconcerted her; things were weird enough on the ship with Xoti’s slow descent into constant bloodlust and a growing tension between herself and Aloth that sailing to the furthest southern reaches to freeze her arse off didn’t seem like a logical next step. “There’s just, you know, this whole matter of Eothas destroying the Deadfire by wading through it like a toddler’s bathing pool, a stack of unclaimed bounties that’re honestly starting to rot, and the needs of our other compatriots to attend to. We’re sort of a busy lot,”

Ydwin said nothing, crossing her arms and staring intently until Idralia met her gaze again. Once she did, the scout felt a prickling in her senses at the back of her mind as she felt the cipher reach out to her mentally.

_And is that to say that my own concerns or interests are not as important as theirs?_ she questioned, and Idralia winced at the implication. Ydwin had largely been confined to the ship since she had first boarded in Neketaka, and that had been even several more weeks prior to the receipt of the mysterious invitation from whomever this “Vatnir” was. She simply shook her head and she could feel the bubbling frustration from the pale elf.

“Really wish you wouldn’t do that. It’s not necessary. Listen, I don’t know how much time I have left. I could die tomorrow from this whole splintered soul thing for all I know. It’s like... I don’t know what it’s like, I’m not sure anyone else out there has wandered about with only half of themselves,” she screwed her face in her own frustration, trying to make sense of her rapid string of thoughts.

_This is why I do this. You are conflicted and trying to take on too much. Slow down. Focus on this for a while - perhaps a focused distraction will allow you to more easily sort out your... other priorities._ Idralia picked up on the hesitation of thought in Ydwin’s message, but before she could ask for clarification, the cipher had turned abruptly on her heel to exit the captain’s quarters. She dropped her face into a hand, rubbing at the bridge of her own nose and pushing upward to relieve pressure she’d been harboring in her sinuses—missing the unapologetic brush of shoulders between Ydwin and Aloth as he made his way in.

* * *

 

Aloth cast a glance Ydwin’s way as she pushed past him with no sign of hesitation. While he held respect for Ydwin’s pursuit of knowledge in the metaphysics, her unapologetic approach to animancy rubbed him the wrong way. ‘No matter,’ he supposed, turning his attention back to the distracted Watcher.

It was clear to him for quite some time now that Idralia had been holding back the discussion regarding the nature of their friendship. While he still wasn’t certain he was ready to broach the topic himself, he did recognize she was respecting a boundary she had set years ago with him and he admired her diligence. Catching himself staring, he cleared his throat, and the woman snapped to attention, straightening in her desk chair and dropping a roll of leather to the floor, where it began to rock slowly with the listing of the ship. Aloth bent and picked up the missive before Idralia had fully regained her awareness, and his eyes skimmed its contents before he could stop himself.

“Ah - the Dead Floe is our next course then, captain?” he used the title playfully and enjoyed the pink that traveled up her ears at his use of it. Idralia wasn’t a fan of the title, particularly when used by her former adventuring party. With the plethora of time she had spent teasing him on their previous adventures, he found he was beginning to appreciate turning the tables.

“Oh, w-well,” she stuttered a moment, regaining her composure with a deep breath before dropping her tricorn unceremoniously on the desk and relaxing in his company. Even when he did catch her off guard, she never took long to return to her more confident, certain bearing. “I think that would be Ydwin’s preference. I’ve been... having trouble focusing on one task at a time, and she requested her own interests take a priority for a time. I s'pose that’s not much different than taking a detour to Ori o Koiki, right?”

Aloth hummed an agreement and nodded. She had a point; it would be rather obvious favoritism if she weren’t equally willing to investigate the needs of their other companions. ‘An’ yet ye dinnae mine a thot ye might be th’ importan one, aye?’ Iselmyr bubbled from deep within his psyche, cackling all the while he silently pushed her back down. Opportunities to poke and prod at his most insecure feelings—that was often the most likely times his elder ego would make herself heard. At least her thoughts rarely, if ever, spilled from his mouth these days.

“That seems fair, to say the least. Still,” he hesitated, and Idralia re-focused her attention on him.

“Tell me your thoughts, Aloth. You know I trust your opinion,” he felt a smile twitch at the side of his mouth, knowing full well how much she valued his council. It was odd to him that someone who was so certain in her actions would seek insight from someone as unsure as he was; oft before she’d claimed it was because she valued how very differently he perceived the world. As he grew to know her, however, he suspected it was because they were more alike than either cared to admit and he reaffirmed her beliefs rather than than questioned them.

“Something about it simply seems... off. But I suppose that could be my predisposition for distrust in theological cults with extreme beliefs,” he gave a slight shrug and Idralia laughed.

“You kind of have good reason to be suspicious. Maybe all the more reason to check this out sooner rather than later,” she waved off the notion and stood with a stretch. “Never mind all that, though, I doubt you came in here to talk about Ydwin. What do _you_ need, Aloth?” she hipped her hand and gave him that carefree smile, the one that made him believe without a doubt she knew exactly where she was going, how she was going to get there, and reaffirmed his decision in tagging along on her adventures.

In that moment, his heart skipped a beat and, just like that, his resolve was gone again. Logically, he knew better. Fear of rejection was ridiculous because he already knew she harbored feelings for him—she’d more or less confirmed that within hours of his rejoining her group. Emotionally though, there was the fear of hurting her, of breaking her heart... now that was a fate to which he was terrified he might find himself. It was his turn to backpedal.

“A-ah, oh, I-I’m... afraid you’ve preemptively answered my inquiry. I was merely wondering where we might be sailing to next,” he attempted to shrug nonchalantly once more, but he knew she was far too perceptive to ignore the stiffness in his shoulders and forced movement. She smiled, a sad sort of resignation in her eyes, and she scooped up her eye patch and cap from the desk before moving up to place her other hand on his shoulder.

“Another time then,” she promised quietly, and his bare shoulder burned with the absence of her warmth as she moved past, donning her headgear once more and moving above deck.

‘Ya bullocksed tha’ one, Corfiser,’ he felt the mockery wave through again and this time he allowed Iselmyr to chide him. Quite frankly, he felt he deserved it. "Not like ye kin run afar offa ship, ye dafty,” he found himself muttering alone, and he bit the inside of his cheek to quell the bubbling criticisms, lest another crew mate overhear. He had maintained fair control of Iselmyr and, even if in this matter she was right, he wasn’t about to let it go again.

Sighing, he returned below decks, settling himself in his bunk where he might distract his thoughts with his latest grimoire acquisition or simply drift off. Anywhere he could be without thoughts that rang too true.

* * *

 

“It’s casting again! Aloth, can you sto-” Idralia’s command was lost the moment she was blown back by a blast of bitter cold and hail. Already, Ydwin, Xoti, and Cantelope all lay unconscious at the feet of the gargantuan rotting beast, its rancid wings flapping languidly amidst the biting cold winds of the Dead Floe. Idralia’s bow skidded several feet away from her grasp across the icy ground, and it took every last bit of Aloth’s concentration to maintain the spell he was forming. His arcane reserves were burning low, and he only had a handful of spells remaining that seemed to have any effect on the lumbering so-called Herald of Rymrgand. Even Idralia’s normally fearsome powerful shots were barely penetrating its frozen hide.

Idralia scrambled through the snow, scraping away her eye patch to rely on her full sight, squinting against the bright sky as she adjusted to the sudden influx of light. She whirled about on the ground, bringing up her warbow with both hands just a huge claw came down to attempt to crush her into the ground. She managed to prop it between her and the dragon, straining against an impossible strength, and Aloth knew there was only a moment more he might take advantage of the distraction that could save all their lives—or doom them all.

“Athek werthan _roth_!” with emphasis, he finished the last fiery incantation he had remaining, watching the _fireball_ form around the rear of the beast and scorching its back flank. ‘It’s not enough!’ he panicked, and the first crunch he heard following the explosion was not half as sickening as the second.

Idralia screamed in pain, one of the dragon’s huge claws pinning her to the ground through nearly the whole of her left shoulder, her leather armor easily sundered and barely enough skin and sinew remaining to keep her arm attached to her torso. Her left fingers spasmed out with raw nerve stimulation, her right hand coming up to grasp the splintered remains of her family heirloom, the only item of purchase she could find. Blood pooled below her, vibrant against the stark white below.

“IDRALIA, NO!” was all Aloth could manage before he was immediately weaving another spell, this time an unerring _Minoletta’s_. But the enemy was faster yet, unnaturally so, as it slammed a backhanded claw into Eder’s shield, sending the Dyrwoodan man flying back into the remains of the ice sculpture of Rymrgand, his head knocking violently against the pedestal and stilling him at the base.

“A-Aloth,” the elf barely heard his name over the harsh whistling, and he dared to look once more in the direction of the one he had truly come to care for, despite his reticence in letting her know. And there it was. That knowing smile. The one that would normally warm his heart instead sank it deep within his chest, settling in his stomach where he doubted it would ever rise again.

‘I can’t save them,’ he realized, the spell he was finishing fizzling in his grasp as another claw came down around his captain’s body, covering it from his view, but not without causing a gruesome splatter. His stomach churned and he looked away, knowing his distance from the fight simply meant he would be the last to join them.

He swore the dragon began to chuckle as it inhaled again, filling its chest with frozen air intended to erase him from existence. This foe was just too strong. As once more the icy chill of snow and hail began to rain around him, numbing his core, he was left only with that failure. ‘I can’t save _her_ ,”

* * *

 

He awoke drenched in sweat, a stark contrast from the chill of the nightmare that was rapidly escaping his mind. He was breathing sharply, and pushed his grimoire from his chest, a heavy thud hitting the deck below that caused him to wince. Thankfully, he realized none of the light sleepers were present, with Eder heavily snoring in the hammock below his and Serafin’s smaller form curled up in a cot across the way.

‘A quick walk then,’ he wiped his brow with his blanket, nimbly exiting his hammock and replacing his grimoire among his other belongings before heading above deck, taking his time to avoid eye contact with any of the other crew he happened by.

“Bad dreams takin’ to you too, Aloth?” Xoti echoed from the hall as he climbed upward, and he tried not to startle at the sudden acknowledgement. She was always where you never expected these days, and it was rapidly becoming disconcerting.

“AAH, ah, yes. You could say that,” he looked anywhere but her eyes as she loomed forward with interest, the soft and eerie glow of her lantern brightening as she grew closer. She unhooked it from her belt and peered within, as though seeking some answer from it, before eyeing him once more.

“They haunt me too. Every night. I wonder if I’ll ever get a proper sleep again...” she chuckled suddenly, as if in on her own joke. “But of course I will. When Gaun’s done with me, that is,”

“W-well. We can’t all hope for divine intervention. I’ll just be getting some fresh air,” he brusquely shut down the conversation, desiring little more insight to the demons that undoubtedly haunted the Dawnstar priestess, and deeply hoping either she or the Watcher had that situation under control. Xoti shrugged and Aloth quickly exited, closing the door to below decks quite firmly behind him.

It was just past midnight, partially cloudy, which allowed his eyes to adjust quickly to the deep nighttime sky. He took a deep breath, exhaling just as purposefully and noted the fog caused by his warm breath in the air. ‘We’re heading south,’ he acknowledged, and he shuddered, in part due to the chilly night as well as from the lingering horrors of his dreams.

“Can’t sleep?” he heard from above, and he didn’t bother glancing up. Idralia often spent her time in the rigging or crow’s nest when she wasn’t in her quarters. He hadn’t fully expected to find her out here at this hour, but then her proclivity for wearing a patch often meant she stretched her eyes in the dark rather than the light.

“I slept well enough, but...” he shook his head. It was a _dream_ , for gods sakes. Divination wasn’t his strong suit or a personally strong belief, particularly after learning the mortal nature of the so-called deities. Surely, dreams could hold meaning, but why would the divine ever reveal a truth to him when they could speak directly to the Watcher?

He heard a gentle thump as Idralia dropped down behind him, and he leaned against the railing of the ship, looking out and anywhere but at her. The memories, even if they were imagined, were still too _fresh_. Thankfully, she didn’t press, leaning backwards into the railing instead so that they might not need to meet eye to eye.

“You know, I’m not fond of the cold. Hate it, actually. Winter’s my least favorite season,” she wrinkled her nose. “Part of why I like the Deadfire so much. Stick in the right parts and it’s pleasant year-round,”

“I find it hard to believe that pirates, sea monsters, ghost ships, and conniving bureaucrats are that much better than a bit of snow and wind,” he replied, thankful for the distraction in conversation.

“A whole lot more exciting at any rate. Your ship gets frozen and there winds up being not much to do but sit around. I prefer to keep moving,” he could see the hint of a smile on her lips from the corner of her sight, and he smirked in response.

“Is that why we’ve been everywhere around the Deadfire _except_ Magran’s Teeth?” she laughed uneasily at the question and turned slowly to face out to the water, her smile more sheepish now.

“You’ve got me. There’s a lot I want to end, especially this whole half-a-soul situation, but...” she grew quiet, contemplative, and he saw her glance his way again. Still, he could not meet her eyes. “But not everything,” she finished quietly, and he understood there was so much more unsaid behind her statement.

That moment hung between them a while, the two listening to the waves hit the side of the ship, the creak of the wood and rigging, the flap of the canvas sails in the night breeze. It centered both of them in different ways and, for a moment, he was back on the roads of the Dyrwood with her, when they might instead be listening to the crackle of the campfire and the crickets in the countryside.

“Well,” he started, after a time, “I think there’s still quite a lot we have left to do. And we don’t _have_ to start with the coldest tasks first,” he finally turned his head to look at her, and she met his eyes. He smiled gently, encouragingly, and she chuckled.

“What, tell Ydwin to wait her turn?” she sighed, and he could tell she bore the weight of responsibility to her crew and their needs.

“The choice is ultimately yours. You’re the captain, after all—we’re all going to go where you take us,” he reasoned. “Certainly you might need to approach things with more focus but... perhaps consider that focus should be on something for you.”

Idralia looked at him with a more startled glance and she studied his face for a moment. After a while, she closed her eyes, turned her head back out over the water, and sighed.

“You give good advice, Aloth. Perhaps I shouldn’t get ahead of myself on this one... and honestly, those bounties actually are starting to rot,”

“I mean, I wasn’t going to bring it up, but...”

“But they’re stored in a chest below Tekehu’s bunk and you don’t mind his quiet torment?” she winked at him and he suppressed a smile in spite of himself.

“Even _I’m_ not _that_ cruel,” he raised his hands helplessly and Idralia gave him a gentle shove.

“Alright, you’ve made your point. I think we’ve got quite a bit to report on back at Neketaka. And honestly... I could use a dip in the bath house again. I doubt the crew would fight me much on that one,” she reasoned, and they both knew full well a shore leave would be well-received.

“I’ll never be one to complain,” Aloth reassured and Idralia returned a smug grin. ‘Oh no,’ He walked into this one, and he knew it.

She leaned in close, _uncomfortably_ close, and murmured.

“You’ve never been one to complain about a good view, Corfiser,”

Without giving him so much as a second to sputter in protest, she pushed herself from the railing and headed to the door below decks, casting a last sidelong glance at him to enjoy the bewildered look on his face. The night was too dark to catch the beet red blush across his cheeks, spreading onward to the tips of his ears, but he hardly doubted she needed the visual confirmation of his discomfort. They knew each other far too well.

He let her close the door behind her before he sighed to himself, sinking his hot face in his hands down against the railing until he felt the cool wooden surface on his forehead. ‘I’ve avoided one catastrophe,’ he reassured himself, though he wasn’t so certain his nightmare was anything more than the feverish imagination of his innate worrywart.

‘But what else am I walking into?’ he wondered, knowing with growing certainty he couldn’t keep this awkward dance of theirs going on forever.


End file.
